The Lord of Fear

On one side, the casualties were already heavy, with each death thinning their ranks; on the other, fresh reinforcements were arriving without pause. The tide of battle shifted rapidly, and soon, Sarathos felt the heavy weight of pressure closing in on him.

Exhausted and drained, he had initially planned to break the remaining forces of the Lich Legion in one final, decisive blow. Yet, in the blink of an eye, he found himself once again encircled by the enemy. Gazing at the skulls of his once-loyal guards—now part of the opposing forces charging toward him—he couldn't help but feel a crushing sense of helplessness.

"Is this the true power of a Lich King?"

Looking at Aylon, standing like a god of war atop his war chariot, Sarathos, having exhausted his magic, let out a long, weary sigh. He threw aside his magic staff and ordered his skeletal soldiers to surrender on the spot. Continuing the battle was pointless. Though unwilling to accept it, Sarathos had predicted this outcome before the fighting had even begun.

The legendary Lich King, who had reached the peak of the Ninth Rank in the Sacred Domain over a thousand years ago, could effortlessly change the tide of battle with the flick of his wrist. Such an unparalleled master—how could a mere skeleton like him hope to contend with him?

"Sarathos, you've stagnated at the realm of a Necromancer for over a hundred years. If you continue this way, not only will you never reach the Sacred Domain, but breaking through to the rank of a Grand Mage will likely be forever beyond your reach!" Aylon paused before continuing, "By following me and joining my Lich Legion, you'll have the greatest, and perhaps only, opportunity in your life to break through to the Sacred Domain. Prove your worth in battle, and I'll show you what true power and the essence of magic really are!"

Seeing Sarathos give up the fight, Aylon knew he had shattered the latter's mental defenses. Employing both carrot and stick, he masterfully lured the old skeleton with promises of power. As expected, Sarathos's eyes lit up at the mention of breaking through his long-standing bottleneck, his body trembling with excitement.

The Ninth Rank of the Sacred Domain—it represented a profound understanding of the laws of the universe, a touch of the world's primal power. To be guided by such a formidable being in cultivation was a chance that couldn't be bought with all the crystals in the world!

"My lord, the Lich Legion is filled with many powerful Liches and Dark Knights, but... why are they all gone now?" Sarathos, though excited, quickly regained his composure. He hesitated before voicing his final question.

The Lich Legion had always been a force of immense power. The troops before him, though well-trained, were almost entirely made up of weak, first-rank skeletons, with no high-ranking undead among them. This made him instinctively uneasy.

"Sarathos, this world is far larger than you imagine. Uniting the Sunset Wasteland, even the entire Daras Continent, is nothing!" Aylon shook his head in mock solemnity and continued, "A few days ago, I set up a massive ancient magical array and sent all the elites of the Lich Castle into the realm of the undead to carry out a crucial mission. Knowing too much would only harm you, but in time, you'll understand just how vital their mission is."

Aylon spoke with a straight face, fabricating a convenient excuse.

The Atlanta Plane, where the Daras Continent lay, was said to be the origin of all races. Beyond it stretched the boundless Void, filled with countless planes, including the mysterious Undead Plane. Upon death, a soul would either drift and become an undead or venture into the faraway Undead Plane.

The Lich Castle, home to countless powerful undead, indeed had its elite souls sent into the Undead Plane, but Aylon's involvement was purely fabricated, as was the so-called arduous task. However, to those who didn't know the truth, his words seemed entirely plausible.

As expected, upon hearing this, Sarathos finally understood what had been happening at Lich Castle. After a long pause, he humbly bowed before Aylon, releasing his soul's defenses.

"Sarathos, in the near future, you'll realize just how wise this decision was!"

Seeing Sarathos kneeling before him willingly, Aylon breathed a sigh of relief. His black magic quill traced intricate runes in the air, leaving a permanent soul imprint deep within Sarathos's mind. With this imprint, Aylon could track his every move.

"Serving the great master is the greatest honor of my life!" Sarathos proclaimed.

At Aylon's signal, Sarathos stood and respectfully bowed. The once-proud Lich now humbly became Aylon's first true recruit. With this experienced old skeleton at his side, Aylon could now begin building a Lich Mage army.

After successfully recruiting Sarathos, the benefits far exceeded Aylon's expectations.

After incorporating Sarathos's skeleton soldiers, the Lich Legion rapidly swelled to nearly five thousand, including some skeletal archers and a group of formidable skeletal mages. To facilitate command and coordination, Aylon divided the army into three legions: a melee legion, a ranged archer legion, and a mage legion. Each was led by Arno, Isu, and Sarathos. The combined force quickly regained the former strength of the Lich Legion.

Though a small, unremarkable mine, Sarathos's decades-long hoarding of crystals, of varying quality, solved Aylon's immediate problem. After slaying the Skeleton King and depleting the high-grade crystals left by Ovessis, Aylon had been concerned about a shortage of crystals to power his Soul Summoning Banner. However, he unexpectedly received a substantial supply from Sarathos. While these lower-quality crystals couldn't fully unleash the banner's power, they were certainly better than nothing.

"My lord, these are the slaves we've captured over the years," Sarathos offered with a bow, bringing a large group of captives before Aylon. "These cave dwellers are hardy and can work in mining or construction. Unfortunately, they're too weak for combat and consume quite a bit of food!"

Cave dwellers?

Aylon gave no response, merely eyeing the throng of cave dwellers.

These creatures, whether male or female, young or old, were all hunched over by nature, with their dark green skin resembling tight-fitting, green cloaks. Though their numbers were vast—over ten thousand—they were docile, standing before him like a herd of sheep, trembling in fear, trying not to cry out, lest they anger the legendary evil Lich King.

"My... my lord, I... am the elder of the Navia tribe." After a brief silence, seeing Aylon, perched atop his Ferrari chariot, remain silent, an elderly man with a white beard nervously stepped forward. "My lord, please, don't send our people to the Vampire King as prey, turning us into lifeless corpses. Please, we can mine for you, we can build great walls."

Sent to the Vampire King as food?

Aylon glanced at the frightened cave dwellers, chuckling silently.

The Lich Castle had no vampire warriors at present, and even if a vampire army were formed later, there would be no need to drain blood from living humans, let alone slaughter so many. Rumors were just rumors. It seemed the Lich King Ovessis had been regarded by many as an extremely evil and ruthless tyrant, his name synonymous with terror.

"Apologies, but your flesh is too coarse and your blood too foul for our vampire warriors to be interested," Aylon paused before continuing, "However, we in the Lich Castle don't accept useless waste. The castle has infinite manpower, and ordinary skeletons can mine or build walls without consuming food like you."

"My lord, just a little food is all we need. We can build magical structures, cultivate land, and even guide you deep into the cursed valley to the ancient tomb where the legendary Fear Demon King and countless treasures are said to be locked away!" Seeing Aylon's apparent impatience, Navia, the elder, became more desperate. He bit his lip and pulled out a worn, tattered piece of parchment.

Exiled from their underground home, the cave dwellers had no survival skills in the perilous wasteland and could only rely on powerful forces for protection. Even if Aylon spared them, they wouldn't survive long. For the sake of his tribe, Navia was willing to reveal their greatest secret.

According to tribal legend, their ancestors had built a massive tomb deep within the valley millions of years ago, where vast treasures were sealed and the Fear Demon King, an ancient and terrifying demon god, was imprisoned. It was said that a mere breath from the Demon King could doom a person to eternal death, and hearing his roar would annihilate their soul. No one knew the true form of this demon, nor how terrifying he was! After escaping the tomb, the ancestors of the cave dwellers had wandered the valley, never daring to return to their ancestral homeland.

The Fear Demon King?

Aylon's heart stirred as he took the tattered parchment.

With each breakthrough in his cultivation, Aylon's soul imprint with Ovessis deepened, granting him more memories. From his current recollections, the powerful mind-afflicting Fear Magic originated from the Fear Demon King's will. If he could experience the Demon King's roar up close and absorb his thoughts, it might lead to the understanding of a much more powerful Fear Magic.

"Cursed valley, ancient tomb, ancient demon god... what truly happened

here millions of years ago?" Aylon gazed silently into the depths of the valley before leading his vast Lich army away. Behind him, the cave dwellers, escorted by a detachment of skeleton soldiers, followed at a distance.